


Nebulous

by ElijahChan



Series: Stygian [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Abused Harry Potter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Character Death, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, Death Eater Harry Potter, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Murder, POV Harry Potter, Sadistic Harry Potter, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-06-23 07:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15601068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElijahChan/pseuds/ElijahChan
Summary: Its 1996, Voldemort has taken the fight directly to Hogwarts-The hall was in a state of shock. The Order were struck dumb, unable to even begin forming words to possibly deal with what was going on in front of their eyes.For once in her life Hermione was unable to process what was going on, completely stunned by what she was witnessing because it was just so wrong, so terribly wrong.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

Inside the great hall of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry time seemed to stand still. Crammed tightly against the walls, a mixture of staff, students and aurors shook silently while various death eaters watched like hawks just _waiting_ for one of them to make a fuss.

At the front of the hall, the Dark Lord Voldemort gazed around silently. His face was the epitome of a child’s nightmare. Scaly planes of white skin dipped and jutted over bones, his skeletal appearance was made more pronounced by the lack of a nose or lips and even though his expression was impassive, his eyes _burned._ At his feet, Order members were strewn haphazardly all feeling the effects of the cruciatus ripple through their bones as they lay on the cold stone tiles.

Grinding against the floor, the doors at the entrance of the hall eased open. A sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the hall as the golden trio were dragged bound and gagged towards the front. Stumbling, Ron glared furiously at anyone who made eye contact with him whilst also trying to frantically reach out with a grubby hand towards Hermione, who had tears streaming steadily down her face, cutting lines through the soot and grime. Harry’s expression was blank, his bony figure obeying every shove of the death eater who had hold of him.

“Well, well,” Voldemort hissed gleefully once the trio were pulled in front of him “Quite the fall from grace you’ve had here,” His laugh was menacing “Now it’s time to bow towards your Lord.”

Behind the gag Ron screamed. Hermione’s face paled. However, she held her chin up and in typical stubborn Hermione fashion she pushed through her fear to meet Voldemort’s hot gaze with her own tired, bruised eyes.

Voldemort flicked his wand absently and the ropes around Harry vanished. As soon as this happened Harry’s knees gave out under him. He fell into a bow, crawling forwards on his hands and knees to grovel and kiss obsessively at the hem of Voldemort’s robes.

“Master,” He reverently murmured “Master, Master, Master…”

 

* * *

 

The hall was in a state of shock. The Order were struck dumb, unable to even begin forming words to possibly deal with what was going on in front of their eyes.

For once in her life Hermione was unable to process what was going on, completely stunned by what she was witnessing because it was just so _wrong,_ so _terribly_ wrong.

Cooing, Voldemort bent down to cup Harry’s pale cheek. “My child,” he hissed “My Snake in Lion’s clothing, you’ve done so well.” Harry seemed to sob at those words.

Harry gasped out “Thank you My Lord, thank you!”

“I think it’s time we called be the others, no?” Harry nodded frantically, his dark hair shifting in front of his eyes as he did so “Yes…” The hiss bordered on parseltongue “Come Harry, give me your arm. Once this is done I think you deserve a reward, you’ve been so awfully good, you deserve to _play.”_

Practically ripping up the muddied sleeve of his shirt Harry was oblivious to the shouts of horror from those at the front of the room, he missed Ron screech of alarm which was so loud it could be heard through the gag. He missed Hermione’s sob and the clatter of her knees as she collapsed to the floor. He missed the news spread like wildfire to the back of the room. He missed it all because his focus was on his Lord and his arm.

Hermione’s thought were running rampant. All those months that Harry hadn’t ever worn short sleeves, at the time it seemed inconsequential, but now…

The way Harry disappeared at nights, his lack of communication, Hermione had just assumed he was grieving for the death of Sirius and that his lessons with Professor Dumbledore were taking all his focus from day to day habits. _Never_ in her wildest dreams would Hermione think that _this_ would be what was going on, that he had this _stain_ on his arm, on his _soul._ It was so obvious, yet it wasn’t now she thought about it. She hated the look on her friends face while he looked at the monster that ruined their lives, the way he looked at the black lines that curved along his forearm in a smile and the way that it contrasted starkly against his skin and the way that the ink seemed to _suck_ in all the light around it. The look on his face made her sick.

 

* * *

 

Voldemort pressed his bony wand against Harry’s mark, hissing a command under his breath. He dismissed Harry without a second glance, not even caring about the way Harry’s body had jolted with pain as Voldemort’s magic shot through his arm, like a bullet, causing Harry to quiver like a leaf and make his still mildly malnourished body ache with a mixture of pride and pain.

His inner circle strode through the door, answering his summons. Bella, Lucius, Rodolphus, Rabastan… He could go on. Their faces were void of emotion even behind the silver masks. Although he could hear their true thoughts in their _minds_. They were blood spattered, the edges of their robes were dipped in blood like you dip a quill in ink, except Lucius’ - ever the perfectionist.

Bella bounded up to him. Stretching a smile across her waxy features at the sight of the golden trio (or duo) at his mercy. She pandered around him, wittering about utter nonsense, murder and such like. He gave her a smile for her benefit before his attention was snatched away from him-

“Can I kill them now?”

It was Harry who spoke.

 

* * *

 

To be continued...


	2. Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic was real. After all this time...it was real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

**1989**  
Little Harry lay gasping on the ground, his chest stuttered as he tried to catch his breath from having the wind knocked out of him by Dudley in his latest display of _‘I’m better than you’_. Pushing himself up his t-shirt slipped off his shoulder revealing a fragile collar bone that looked like a white stick had be placed on top of his skin.

Harry wasn’t calm. He was furious. He could do so much but no matter what he could do he could never fix this. He didn’t know how many times he’d sat in Aunt Petunia’s garden surrounded by the stench of wet soil. He would sit among the compost slowly squeezing the life out of some poor robin and sparrow just because he needed to have power over _something_ . Harry was addicted to that feeling. That rush of adrenaline when the animals neck finally popped out of place, it was a feeling of force, a feeling that he was higher up than something on the food chain rather than in the dregs of humanity like his _precious_ uncle liked to claim.

Harry could stop plates mid-air, whenever Dudley shoved them out of his grip. Harry could unlock his cupboard without touching the door. He could turn his teacher’s hair blue. He could appear on the school roof without climbing up. He could pull the legs off spiders with his mind. He could-he could, -he could…  
_Power_   
Harry had this strange alien power, it wasn’t magic because magic did not exist. Regardless of it he was still sat, knelt in the park whilst his bully of a cousin laughed and his friends kicked him further into the dirt

* * *

  
It was in that moment that Harry learnt the truth of power. You can have strength, you can have so much power that when angered it would be like Mount Vesuvius exploding because you were that strong. But. But...but- there was always someone better than you. Harry could accept that, after the life he’d led he could accept being weaker than someone because if Uncle Vernon wasn’t stronger than he then how did Harry still end up on the end of his belt buckle time after time. While Harry knew he would never be the most potent, he wanted no, _needed_ the person more powerful than him to be worthy of that title.   
If they were worthy they would have his loyalty. 

* * *

  
Harry made Dudley cry that day. In the mud, Dudley discovered exactly what being beaten felt like. 

* * *

  
**1991**  
Magic was real. After all this time...it was real  
Diagon Alley was amazing, Harry’s necked was aching he was turning it so much, as he span at every angle, hungrily sucking in every dusty shop window, every garish robe, every squawking owl. The hubbub of the people around him rose and fell feeling his ears with the joyous sound of home. There was so much magic! Rippling, whizzing sparks of all the colours would shoot across the alley in a wondrously casual display of the power these people possessed.  
Harry loved every inch of it.

“Hagrid, what’s that?” Harry didn’t mind Hagrid, he was a bit dim and virtually powerless, but he was nice, and he seemed to try his best.  
“That’s colour changin’ ink, that” Came the gruff reply   
Harry was unable to comprehend how much power there was that things so ordinary could be so extraordinary. “What’s that?” became Harry’s new favourite question and even though he could tell Hagrid was getting exhausted he didn’t care because magic was real.   
Imagine what he could do with magic, _with power_ . 

* * *

  
Harry would think that the Hogwarts Express would be a once in a lifetime experience and it was. But after about half an hour of fields it stopped being as interesting. Whilst at Diagon Alley Harry had bought virtually every book imaginable and ‘ _Oh God_ ’ had he done so much reading, and he kind of regretted it because now the wizarding world seemed less extraordinary and just more ordinary. The casual use of magic in everything made it seem like it was easy, that everyone could do it and only the truly powerful could achieve the _actual_ extraordinary stuff. Like Dumbledore could, like Merlin could...

Like Voldemort could.

Oh, Harry had learned all about Voldemort. Harry agreed with him, well mostly Harry had to admit he didn’t know half as much as he needed to. To really understand most of it but Voldemort’s ideas on ability, and how he wanted to subjugate the weak. Also, the muggles and the torture and the killing.  
Usually, Harry didn’t think of himself as a psychopath. He was just more relaxed in his moral standing. Never had he killed anything bigger than a squirrel (it was quite hard to kill anything bigger than that in a city) and the most brutal he had gotten was when he nicked a kitchen knife from Aunt Petunia and cut open the little Blackbird he’d killed. But sometimes Harry craved for _more_ . 

* * *

  
Ron Weasley bit his lip as he peeped round the edge of the compartment door, he was eager to meet new people but at the same time he was scared of rejection. Growing up in such a large family like he did meant that there was no need for friends because you had all your friends already but Ron was excited to make some more.

Little did he know in 30 seconds time he would have made his first true friend. Sadly for Ron he wouldn’t be Harry’s true friend.

* * *

  
Confidently and slightly snobbish Hermione had attempted at being polite to the two boys whilst she asked about Neville’s toad. In a few seconds it would be all for naught as politeness was of no importance when she was face with Harry Potter, because this boy was famous! And he was in her year!   
“I’ve read all about you!” She gasped.   
He looked up curiously at this “Really?” he seemed stunned.   
“Oh yes! Haven’t you? I would have if I were famous.” Flabbergasted, she just had to stare, had he not read about himself?   
Sweetly, Harry smiled “No you misunderstand me, I have read about myself - I just - didn’t realise it was such a big deal to people. Its been ten years after all.”   
Hermione struggled to believe someone so famous could be so humble.

On the other hand Harry had decided that this girl was nice, a bit overconfident and it was clear from the way she spoke that she was new to magic like he was. Harry knew she would be strong, he could tell by the determination in her eyes. Maybe she would help him find his love and feed his addiction.

* * *

  
Draco Malfoy was stuck up. ‘What a prick’ thought Harry whilst he glared at the smug blonde, Harry eyes bored into Draco’s perfectly shaped skull and Harry just dreamt of shoving a fork through that not quite grey-not quite blue eye like he’d seen that guy on tv do when he’d opened his cupboard door to watch the film that Uncle Vernon was watching.   
He had power Harry acquiesced but it had a wrong sort of feel to it nevertheless Harry would enjoy Malfoy he seemed funny if still annoying the more Harry thought about it. 

* * *

  
A hat? They had to wear a bloody hat?   
Harry was incredulous. Of all the things to sort a child into their home for the next seven years it had to be a hat? And an old hat at that, how it was still even together after the last thousand years Harry didn’t know. ‘Probably the magic’ a voice in the back of his mind pointed out reasonably.   
When it was his turn he was still doubting the sorting capabilities of a hat.

“Hmmm, done some nasty things haven’t we Mister Potter,” Harry startled “Don’t worry I can’t tell now let’s see… not a bad mind but I think Ravenclaw wouldn’t suit you, you don’t care for learning for learnings sake. But your loyalty! Oh! You could be the perfect Hufflepuff but you’re not kind enough...which is a shame Helga would have loved you in her house, but you don’t believe in helping those...lesser than you, pity.”

By now Harry was becoming impatient, he refused to speak back to the odd hat, partially because he didn’t know how. Did he have to speak out loud or in his head? He could feel the eyes of the school bearing into him as they wondered ‘what the hell was taking so long?’

“You could be in Slytherin, they would lead you on a path to greatness! You certainly have the ambition for it,” Privately, Harry agreed with the hat “However you don’t have as much cunning as I would like but we have yet to look at the final house, Personally I think there’s a fine line between Gryffindor and Slytherin because while the Gryffindors are brave and noble, the Slytherins are brave in their own way, because Mister Potter, the Slytherins are brave enough to go for what they want and _take it_ and because you’re not quite a Slytherin but you wouldn’t fit in any other house either I’m going to have to make you a - GRYFFINDOR”

The last part was shouted to the whole hall and the table of red and gold seemed to erupt into cheers and two familiar redheads started chanting “we got Potter, we got Potter” continuously. Smoothly, Harry slid off the stool to join Hermione and Longbottom and a couple of other first years and soon enough Ron joined them too.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to beta, message me :)


	3. Concatenation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And where have you been?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

The autumn term came and went. It was February now and Harry was shocked at how fast the year was going. So much had happened, on Halloween a troll had gotten in to the castle and wasn't that the perfect excuse for some blood shed - sadly Harry discovered troll skin was quite resistant to knives - but he got away with the clubbing of the troll’s head with its own club quite easily. Although, that was because staff were shocked that a first year managed to completely obliterate its skull with only a levitation charm. Halloween was also the night that Hermione Granger was cemented in to Harry's friendship group.

As much as Harry enjoyed the new addition to his entertainment he couldn't help but be irritated occasionally by her. Her incessant need to do homework and how she  _ hounded _ Harry with how he barely did any theory and spent too much of his time (in her opinion) researching various curses and jinxes to practice. Also, Hermione was the only one who questioned Harry's slightly  _ odd _ habits of wandering off at inopportune times (again in her opinion).

* * *

It was the second week back after the Christmas holidays and Harry was taking full advantage of his new invisibility cloak to sneak out of the dorms. Earlier in the holidays Harry had spent many hours absently wandering around the school (on one of his walks he discovered a mirror that showed him stood next to a shadowed figure that imbued a sense of  _ home _ in him) but now Harry wanted to try  _ leaving _ the school. To go out to try find a small creature or bird to relieve his stress on. Annoyingly and depressingly it was difficult for Harry to sneak away to literally kill some stress from all the noisy students and their abilities.

That was how he found his popularity had downsides. He was followed  _ everywhere _ .

Naturally this made sneaking off nigh impossible and Harry was suffering a twisted form of withdrawal, his fingers would twitch, a nerve in his cheek pulsed when he was aggravated, about a month into the start of school Harry had lashed out and killed Ron’s rat with his potion knife whilst everyone was at dinner after a particularly bad detention with Filch (that man was  _ nowhere near _ as powerful as him). That rat had felt off anyways. Harry had been frantic for days after. He was tense, his muscles bunched up and ready to flee. His throat closed up tight like it'd been zipped up and his heavily bagged eyes would scatter around the place wildly looking for what? He didn't know.

The cloak was a godsend and as Harry reached the main doors of the castle he was getting giddy. His heartbeat grew more frantic. A desperate smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and his found himself not caring about being silent anymore  _ 'deep breaths’  _ Harry reminded himself  _ 'in and out…’.  _ Reaching up slowly Harry splayed his hand over the thick panelled wood whilst his other hand grasped the tarnished handle and he  _ pushed _ .

Nothing.

He should of fucking known. Gritting his teeth tightly Harry held back a growl.  _ ‘Of course, why wouldn't they lock the doors at night?’  _ Harry span, his dark robes swishing furiously, and surged back up to Gryffindor common room. By the time he got there his breath was ragged and he was seriously debating going to hunt down and kill Filch’s cat. Mrs Norris was a prick, no one would miss her.

“And where have you been?”

Shit. “Her- Hermione, hi, why are you still up?” Hermione's glare intensified although Harry didn't really notice it because of her distracting floral pyjamas.

“Don't give me that Harry! You’ve been sneaking off for months and now at night? Did you really think I wouldn't notice?” Harry could practically  _ see _ Hermione's hair bristling with her anger.

Harry felt a flare of fury  _ ‘why does she deserve to know’  _ but hastily calmed it with a breath. “Hermione,” He smiled “I grew up not knowing about my fame and sometimes the popularity gets a bit much,” Hermione’s eyes softened “I need time to myself every now and then, wouldn’t you need that too?” Harry completed lying with a questioning tilt of his head.

Hermione sighed “Oh Harry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, you’re right.” Harry gave slight nod as recognition of her apology. Turning Hermione went to go back to her dorm bidding him goodnight and a stare that was a clear statement that she was mad that he broke curfew never mind his feelings.

* * *

After that the year seemed to drag by. Harry both hated and loved the thought of going back to the Dursleys. He hated it because of the obvious but loved it because he would actually be able to kill in  _ peace  _ without the possibility of anyone sneaking up on him. Naturally, Harry didn’t listen to Hermione and continued to sneak out and about to hunt down rats to strangle. He even discovered a Cerberus on the third-floor corridor that Harry vaguely remembered being ‘out of bounds’. 

Gryffindor were steamrolled by Slytherin in the Quidditch cup. Harry was under the impression that this was a bad thing? Most of the house were sad for  _ days _ but he wasn’t the only one unfazed as Hermione didn’t seem to care either. They got to suffer through a miserable Ron together.

Around a week before the end of term Quirrell was found dead in his office. The incident shook the school to its foundations and classes were called off while the investigation was ongoing. It turned out that Quirrell was being possessed by  _ something  _ and the extended exposure to possession had exhausted his body to the point of death. Nobody could figure out what killed him. Everyone was sombre, everyone except Harry that is who didn’t really care, the guy annoyed him anyway, his existence made Harry’s scar itch and he’d spent many a lesson fantasising about Quirrell’s death, him actually dying was unexpected.

* * *

When school finally ended, Harry went straight home without a word to his aunt or uncle, aside from when he had to pause to assure uncle Vernon he still remembered the rules. Back at the house he swiftly went on a hunt for some small rodents to exert his strength over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment your thoughts :)


	4. Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “T-Tom?” She stuttered.  
> Harry straightened his back “Hello Ginny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

“It wasn’t me Professor.”

“I believe you Harry.”

Harry let out a shuddering breath and a blissed-out smile came across his face.

“Tom,” He crooned “ _ Tom _ . He believes us the Headmaster believes us” the book in his hands thrummed with warmth.

Harry had found the book a few weeks ago in the sleeping clutches of little Ginny Weasley it had seemed to call out to him, just  _ begging  _ Harry to pick it up. It was how Harry learned of the Basilisk...and the Chamber.

* * *

 

It was January when Harry had found the diary and until tonight all attacks on students had stopped. Peculiar, that was what Harry described the school as when the first attack happened. A cat was petrified by some serious dark magic and the school just carried on with what they were doing, and then when the first  _ child  _ was petrified, well…

Aside from a duelling club that Harry never attended there was not much the teachers had done to help students protect themselves. Although the duelling club sounded fun (Hermione had a snake set on her by Malfoy) it seemed like such a drag to go and get taught stuff that Harry probably already  _ knew.  _ So, Harry never attended but he did point out to Hermione later that if she was so bothered by the snake that had attacked why hadn’t she just told it to leave her alone. That had gotten him some funny looks but did prompt Harry into discovering what Parseltongue was.

Right now a Hufflepuff girl that Harry couldn’t care to name had joined her housemate and the other children in the hospital wing and Harry was whistling his way to the second-floor girls’ bathroom.

* * *

Harry loved the power that came with the diary. He could connect with Tom like he could with no one else. Tom never said killing animals was wrong. Tom never told him that the way he thought was wrong. Tom never made him act normal. Tom never stopped him from going after the other students to sate his cravings as long as they were muggleborn. They  _ had  _ to be muggleborn Tom had said, Harry never asked why, he didn’t really care.

* * *

Hermione was quivering in her nook in the library, students were dropping like plague victims, there was another gone every day. It was only a matter of time before-

A sound.

“Hermione?” Hermione sighed, it was Ginny she was fine.

Calling out, Hermione signalled her over “I’m here, what’s up?” Ginny looked frail. Over the past few months Ginny had looked worse and worse however recently she had perked up only to fall down again when the attacks started up again. Hermione couldn’t blame her, if it were her first year of Hogwarts and it was spent fearing for your life then it wouldn’t be enjoyable. Analytically, Hermione did wonder why Ginny was as scared as she was, Ginny was a pureblood after all.

But did that really matter in a situation like this?  
  


Rust coloured hair plastered to her head with grease - a sign of lacking self-care - and sunken eye sockets that made her sun on soil eyes appear even more skittish. Her robes were crumpled and faded, and her fingers were twisting around each other, Hermione also noticed that her nails were bitten down to the nub.

“Hermione,” Ginny uncertainly started “Can I... talk to you?”

Hermione’s eyes widened briefly “Of course,” She replied gently “You can tell me anything.” Hermione tried to smile reassuringly.

Ginny licked her lips “It’s just...I need to tell you something about-”

“Hermione!” Harry suddenly appeared, and Ginny paled dramatically before stuttering something about potions homework and stumbled off. Hermione thought it was adorable how Ginny was so shy around Harry, but she wished Harry didn’t have to just barge in. She would reprimand him, but Harry had a habit of not listening to her.

“What is it Harry?” She questioned bluntly, wanting to go find Ginny and make sure she was okay.

“Oh, nothing really I just haven’t seen you in a while and I wanted to ask you about the essay for Flitwick.” He smiled widely at her, a little  _ too  _ widely.

“ _ Professor  _ Flitwick,” Reminded Hermione reflexively “Anyway, I thought you’d already done the essay?” Hermione was puzzled, maybe he just wanted to check something.

“Y’see I just wanted to check something” Oh, she was right.

They wandered quietly out the library together, it was almost curfew, so the corridors were more or less empty. Glancing at the shadows, Hermione pulled her arms round her comfortingly.

Hermione turned her head to Harry and asked, “What is it you wanted to check Harry?”

“Oh, just the bit on reflection charms” Reflection charms? What?

They turned onto the main corridor and Harry clamped his eyes shut but Hermione was faced with a floating mirror and two great big yellow eyes.

* * *

**June**

Harry crept along the corridor. Once in the bathroom he walked up to the sinks and trailed his fingers lovingly over the tiny engraving on the tap. He heard a gasp from the doorway when he hissed at the sink. Harry’s head swung up to meet the wide-eyed stare of Ginny Weasley, he cocked his head to the side when she carefully stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft thud behind her.

“Harry?” Shit.

“Oh Ginny, look I just found this secret pass-” Ginny cut in.

“He possessed you too?” Whispered Ginny, her eyes shining with tears.

Harry faltered minutely “Yes - Yes he did, I’m sorry Ginny I tried to stop him but…” He ducked his head slightly. Internally Harry was debating on  _ how in the seven hells  _ was he going to get out of this.

“No, no,” Ginny rushed “It’s not your fault he possessed me too. I know everything,” She looked ready to cry “It’ll be okay.”

Harry sighed, then...he had an idea.

He swung his head up and jolted forward, grabbing Ginny by the front of her robes. Whirling around he shoved her down the entrance brutally.

* * *

Harry was waiting tensely in the main chamber, balancing on the base of one of the opulent pillars he gazed steadily at Ginny’s prone form lying in the damp, his stare occasionally darted across to the diary which he’d abandoned a few metres away.

Ginny sucked in a breath and groggily pushed herself up. Ginny’s head whipped around to quiver frightfully at Harry.

“T-Tom?” She stuttered.

Harry straightened his back “Hello Ginny.”

Tears leaked out of the corners of Ginny’s eyes. “Why Harry, Tom? Why?”

Harry paused then smiled. “I told you I always wanted to meet him,” Harry tried to recall as much as he could from his and Tom’s first conversations “And really Ginny it was only a matter of time before you were caught, Harry on the other hand, is a lot subtler.” Harry’s smile turned feral.

Ginny whimpered and shuffled backwards whilst Harry prowled forward but their attention was stolen by the previously immobile diary on the ground. Smoke was rising from it, although it wasn’t smoke it was fragmented and far too black, it seemed to be searching through the air as it took a vaguely human shape. Solidifying the smog paled and warped until a boy that Ginny and Harry knew yet had never seen appeared smirking before them.

Tom tutted, shaking his head condescendingly “Harry, Harry,” He smirked “Such  _ lies. _ ”

Harry’s lip curled, what right did Tom have to say that to him?  _ Him. _ Tom was ignoring Harry’s fury and was instead lazily strolling up to the immense statue of Salazar Slytherin and placed a hand on the hard granite wall. “ **Speak to me Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four** .” The chamber rumbled, and Harry took that moment of distraction to make himself scarce because fuck it, he wasn’t becoming basilisk food.

“Not so fast Harry” Harry stopped and turned. Tom waved a wand that Harry swore looked suspiciously like the one he plucked off Ginny. Grinning, Tom slid a freshly conjured sword across the floor to Harry’s feet. Harry gingerly grasped the handle of the blade and raised just as the basilisk glided into view.

It was enormous, mottled green and black scales glinted in the torchlight of the chamber. Strange reflections rippled over its scales, rebounding from the flood it slid through. Teeth that adorned its mouth were knife-like and yellowed, easily twice the length of Harry’s forearm, a split tongue scented the air. Ginny was trembling on the floor the head buried into the stones. Harry yanked his wand out of his sleeve and pointed the dark stick of wood at the snake.

“Diffindo Maxima!” Harry spat swinging his wand downwards. The spell barely grazed the snake however it did catch one of its eyes allowing a spatter of viscous blood to stain the floor. The basilisk wailed, and Tom screamed furiously. Realising that spells were mostly useless Harry turned and bolted, ignoring Tom’s jeering hisses as he fled.

* * *

Harry sprinted down a side tunnel. His footsteps echoed on the walls around him. Blood was rushing in his ears. Harry hadn’t felt this much adrenaline in years! Breath rattled in his chest when he paused to take refuge in a small alcove. Tom was nuisance that much was known, that basilisk was volatile at best when Harry had been dealing with it, so he more or less knew he was screwed when Tom called it. The diary! Tom was connected to the diary so if Harry destroyed the diary the Tom would die.

Harry couldn’t just curse or burn the diary, he’d tried that when Tom first annoyed him and that didn’t even scratch the cover. He needed something more powerful...Glancing down at his hand that was still grasped around the sweaty hilt of the sword. A sword wouldn’t harm the diary much. He needed something powerful, something violent, something poisonous, something toxic.

Basilisk blood.

Basilisk blood was just as venomous as its fangs so if Harry got the diary in the blood then- Harry gritted his teeth, he listened out for tell-tale signs of movement but heard nothing. Considering it safe Harry slowly eased his way back up towards the chamber.

His shoes announced his presence for him and Tom surveyed him coolly when Harry picked up his diary. Harry walked forwards, he exuded an aura of cockiness. Scanning the hall Harry noticed that the basilisk was still off somewhere, and Ginny was still cowering on the floor.

Flicking speedily through Harry selected a page and tore it out. Tom didn’t flinch. Harry dropped the page onto the blood. Tom  _ did  _ flinch.

Tom snarled “How dare you!” He lunged forward to grab the book. Cackling and spinning out the way, Harry threw the book onto the blood. The leather fizzled and popped, the cover curled inwards and inked oozed out the pages.

Tom shot a spell at Harry before desperately trying to grab his diary.

He was too late.

Tom was screaming, Ginny was shrieking, Harry was smiling. Tom writhed, clawing at his face and hair. His body was flaking and glowing like dying embers, his robes were ash floating on the wind like dust. It was suddenly anti-climatic because Tom just - disappeared.

Violent hissing shook Harry out of his reverie. He didn’t turn around “ **You’re Master was a fake,** ” he hissed, Harry could _ feel  _ the snake stop curiously “ **I’m your master now, you will listen to me and me alone. Now leave and hibernate.** ” The basilisk slid away, its scales scraping against the stone. Harry let out the breath he was holding and turned to Ginny.

Sharp and vile; Harry noticed the scent of urine that surrounded her. He sneered in disgust but bent down to tap her shoulder anyway.

“Ginny, Ginny we’re safe, he’s gone” Harry’s voice was tender.

Slowly Ginny raised her head “Really?” She sniffled.

“ _ Yes _ .”

Ginny sobbed in relief but was sufficiently mortified when she noticed the state of her robes.

* * *

After a pesky conversation with the headmaster and a million house points (exaggeration) Harry was free at last. Ginny was sworn to secrecy and the school was informed it was safe once more. A few days later the petrified were awoken and Hagrid - who had been imprisoned Harry recalled being told by Ron - returned.

* * *

When back in Privet Drive there was an awful smell in Harry’s room. Swallowing in disgust Harry prized open the box he’d shoved under his bed last summer and cringed at the sorry state that the odd creature lying dead in it was in. Harry picked up the box, smiling happily at the solving of that little mystery and ventured out the house to find a place to bury it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment below :)  
> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


	5. Fatality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Borgin went to speak.  
> Harry leaned forward and placed a finger to Borgin’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream
> 
> I apologise for the slight delay and the disappointing length however I do have the entirety of the next chapter planned out and it should be written and published by Monday at the latest

Diagon Alley was rife with activity as always which made it especially easily for Harry to slide down the shadowy side street that led to Diagon’s less than savoury sibling; Knockturn Alley.

Knockturn Alley was dark and dismal. Every street corner was littered with small groups of hags and middle-aged prostitutes trying to sell their wares and occasionally make off with a child or two. The wood panelled gothic buildings were dusty but clearly well used at the same time. To Harry it seemed like Knockturn was trying to fit into every stereotype that existed about dark magic, however that didn’t mean he wasn’t cautious. There was a foreboding air that drifting through the streets and a biting chill that accompanied every passing vampire and the smell of copper and burnt meat hung heavy in the air. 

* * *

  
Harry carefully flattened his unruly hair over his forehead, he did not want to be recognised. Gently, he eased the door into Borgin and Burke’s open and entered the infamous shop. Skulls, tarnished silver and pungently cursed objects were artfully scattered over tables and in glass cabinets. The only light came from the odd floating candle as the windows were thick with a greasy grime that made Harry cringe. Ignoring the looming figure of Borgin by the counter Harry dodged his way through the displays towards a section dedicated to weaponry. Feeling like a giddy child in a sweet shop, Harry gazed lovingly at all the blades of varying length that were laid out before him. Blood-crusted, silver, bronze, long and thin, short and sharp, cursed, goblin made, or jewel encrusted, any type of blade you want they had and Harry was in paradise. 

Harry glossed his fingers over a ruby coated hilt then hummed to himself and proceeded to grasp the cold handle of one of a set of twin blades. The blade itself was long and in total the entire thing was about the length of his forearm, it was made of a silver metal - not silver Harry thought - and it had a fine point that was so sharp it might be hard to feel it cut you. It had a very slight curve to it and about ten centimetres from the hilt the blade jutted inwards sharply making the blade suddenly rather thinner. When Harry picked up the knife he noticed that what he thought was a simple black leather handle was actually some form of hide or skin. Holding it up to the dim light his eyes homed in on a subtle glimmer of scales that had a deep royal blue hue to them. Smiling sharply to himself, Harry fingered the sharp edge and turned to go make his purchase. He paused. Turning, Harry stared down at the matching knife to the one in his hand and hovered his hand over it, shaking his head Harry settled for buying just one and span to continue marching to the counter.

Mr Borgin was a slimy old man, his robes were of a good cut but were old and showed that while he could afford nice things, he wasn’t so well off that he could keep up with changing trends and fashion. Borgin’s sunlight deprived face sneered as Harry approached his counter, that expression made the aged lines in his skin become deeper and uglier in Harry’s opinion. Beady, worn eyes glared at him when Harry placed the knife in front of him but lit up minorly when Harry pulled out his bag of Galleons. Borgin went to speak.

Harry leaned forward and placed a thin finger to Borgin’s lips.

* * *

  
Harry hummed contently as he meandered back up the street towards the light of Diagon Alley. He was smiling lazily as he flipped his new blade between his fingers idly already imagining what he could do with it - maybe he could use it to scare his cousin? Just as he passed a shadowy alley a hand reached out and grabbed him.

“What the fu-” Harry spat, kicking out wildly at his captor. A hand was pressed over his mouth and Harry got a glimpse of a dirty face and a patchwork of rags. 

His captor hushed him “Hello little boy,” They cooed “Now, can you please just stay quiet while Auntie Lucinda check for any nasty men coming to interrupt us.” His captor gave Harry a sickly sugary smile and moved away slightly to lean back out onto the high-street. 

Harry only needed them to move a little. Rushing forward Harry grabbed Lucinda by the hair and  _ slammed _ her bony frame down to the ground. Harry slammed her head onto the cobbles. Once. Twice. Three times. Each blow making a more sickening crunching sound than the last. Bone splintered under the impact and blood splattered over the stones and onto Harry hair filled hand. Eyes wide with adrenaline Harry gasped a shuddering breath when he moved backwards, staring at the damaged body of his would-be attacker. Tossing madly Harry grasped at his knife that had dropped to the floor a few feet away from him. Picking it up felt like a balm, it’s cool handle settled sweetly in his palm, he thrust it downwards forcefully. His blade plunged into the woman’s torso with a stomach turning squishing noise and an odd suctioning sound as he pulled it back out to repeat the action. He rammed it time and _ time again _ into the body slashing madly at her skin.    
Harry wondered where the laughing was coming from.

* * *

  
It was coming from him.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


	6. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He raised an arm, his wand clenched painfully in his hand “Ridikulus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

Third year started with little fanfare. A new defence against the dark arts teacher joined after the ‘mysterious disappearance’ of Gilderoy Lockhart at the end of last year. Professor Lupin looked a bit shabby and gentle but hopefully he would hold up for a while - Harry was really getting sick of the constant change of staff.    
With the new year came new classes. Ancient Runes was simply fascinating and was quickly becoming a favourite class of Harry’s. Granted that wasn’t hard to achieve when competition was stuff like Potions. Harry opted to take Runes instead of the Divination class that Ron took. Partially because he had no interest in prophecy, partially because the teacher looked like a complete idiot and partially because Harry thought being able to write notes and spells in a different language would be a great way to fuck with people. His decision was further cemented when he found that not all runic spells required a wand (he told Hermione this interested him because of the phenomena that was wandless magic when actually he just wanted knew ways to play with the Dursleys during summer).   
Care of Magical Creatures on the other hand he just took because everyone else seemed to and boy was Harry glad he did. First lesson, Little Malfoy got mauled (not his words) by a hippogriff which gave Harry a rush similar to when he committed the blood shed himself. 

* * *

  
Their first Defence lesson loomed on the third day of term, when the mixed class of Slytherins and Gryffindors, (why did the teachers insist on those houses being together?) piled into the classroom they were anticipating an introductory lesson of pure theory, however ten minutes later they were stood in a nervous throng before a shaking wardrobe in the staff room.   
“Right,” Professor Lupin began “Who here can tell me what a boggart is?” Before Lupin had even completed his question, Hermione’s hand had flung into the air.   
Lupin indicated to Hermione “A boggart is an amorphous creature which takes the form of whatever we fear the most in order to incapacitate us” Hermione recounted - a textbook answer.   
Lupin nodded, “Five points to Gryffindor,” Hermione glowed “Now, Mr Potter can you tell me why tackling a boggart alone is a bad idea?”   
Startled, it took a moment for Harry to answer, “If there’s lots of people...would that confuse it?” Harry hesitatingly replied.   
Professor Lupin smiled again and launched into a deeper explanation on the nature of Boggarts and the best ways to defeat them. Soon he had the entire class lined up one by one to face the boggart. Neville went first and gifted the class with Snape dressed in Neville’s Grandmother’s clothes.    
Harry would treasure that memory.   
Eventually it was his turn. Honestly Harry had no idea what his greatest fear would be but when he came to the front of the line Lupin seemed to almost dive in front of him. Lupin wasn’t fast enough; the boggart had already seen Harry. The boggart jumbled, a swirling foggy mass that rippled and curved. It froze and settled. A child Harry sat on the floor. The class froze. Even Malfoy was silent.   
“Please, please,” Boggart Harry whimpered. It was pale and skinny, large bruises and scars littered its malnourished frame. Dark, viscous blood seeped out the corner of its mouth. Large eyes begged for help and a few students were glancing at Harry curiously.    
“Please, I can’t stop it, I need help…” Boggart Harry trailed off with a hacking cough that spattered blood over the floor.    
Harry was fixated on the boggart, it wasn’t even really registering to him that it was him, all he could think about was how powerless and disgustingly pitiful it looked. It made Harry’s stomach turn.   
He raised an arm, his wand clenched painfully in his hand “Ridikulus.” The boggart whirled once more. 

* * *

  
The rest of the day was solemn, Harry silenced many questions from his worried friends (read: irritatingly nosy) with icy glares. 

* * *

  
Aside from that one lesson, most of the year was peaceful. Care got increasingly tedious after the hippogriff debacle, but Runes made the rest of the week bearable. The only downside was that Lupin seemed to frequently fall ill - not surprising if you looked at him - and all of his lessons were covered by Snape. Nevertheless, Harry hoped Lupin would stay on next year, he was the only competent teacher they’d had so far.    
That was not the case. A week before the end of term it was ‘leaked’ that Lupin was a werewolf (which was obvious when Harry actually stopped to think about it, oh and care). So that was that, no more Lupin. Shame.

* * *

  
Harry survived the trip back on the train somehow. 

Ron and he had had to listen to Hermione’s endless rants about the hippogriff that she and Ron had rescued and how she was so scared the ministry would find where Hagrid and Dumbledore had sent it.    
Turned out Hermione had a time turner that she’d used to get it. Harry hadn’t cared about helping and had spent the time at the library researching curses and wondering if he should find a charm to protect his ears from a scolding on his lack of sympathy for Hagrid’s plight from Hermione later. 

* * *

  
Armed with a haul of Runes and a cruel grin Harry re-entered the muggle world.   
  
  



	7. Coercion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry stood and approached Malfoy slowly, the screams from the riot were a distant buzz in this moment. “it's what you've done that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, giving you all this content :)
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

A loud shout of fury echoed up from the living room of number four Privet Drive. Harry, who had been sat on his bed in the smallest bedroom, grinned ferally in delight.  
When Harry finally decided to go see what the commotion was, Uncle Vernon had been joined by Petunia in his anger.  
“You,” He snarled at Harry “You did this! Undo it now!” Vernon was purple with rage at what Harry had done.  
Harry cackled and shook his head “I have no idea what you on about,” Harry replied innocently “You know that I can't do magic outside of Hogwarts.”  
Petunia gasped as Harry spoke, a bony hand covering her mouth in muted horror.  
“Don't say those words!” Vernon bellowed, wanting to strangle Harry but unable to because he was trapped on the living room rug.  
Smiling secretively, Harry mocked them “Well it's true I can't do magic outside of school without a _wand_.” Moving forward, Harry bent to lift up the corner of the rug Vernon was trapped on revealing a set of chalk drawn runes encircling the edge.  
Vernon seemed to swell in fury but before he could so much as scream Harry had lifted up a sheet of paper with a swooping rune scrawled across it. Smirking Harry stared into Vernon's dumbstruck eyes whilst he lifted a stolen lighter to the corner of it. As soon as the rune was eaten up by the flames and was nothing more than white ash. Petunia meanwhile was shrieking about freaks and how Vernon was going to give Harry a 'good whipping’ when this was over.  
Tailing off Petunia turned to her husband confused about his silence, Vernon was frantically opening and closing his mouth.  
Harry had silenced him.  
Petunia looked faint and hurried to shove Harry out of the room and as Harry let her push him away he called out “By the way,” he grinned “I'm leaving in a few days, been invited to go see the world cup-” Harry paused dramatically “the Quidditch world cup.”  
Harry's answer was a door to the face. 

* * *

  
The rest of Harry's time at the Dursleys was spent peacefully. Vernon - once he was freed from his runic prison - was quite subdued and only glared at Harry from across the dining table. Petunia set more chores but refused to speak with him at all, which made his jobs much, _much_ easier. At first Dudley looked as if he wanted to beat Harry up but a quick rune of bad luck that had Dudley running into walls and wetting himself sorted that particular issue quite neatly. 

* * *

  
Harry was seated in the Weasley household at roughly five in the morning scoffing down a bacon sandwich and trying to avoid any awkward questions from the awed gingers that surrounded him. Ron was once again explaining the importance of Quidditch to Hermione who still wasn't convinced that it was worth all the fuss. Harry agreed with her sentiment.  
Nose wrinkling slightly, Harry looked at Ginny Weasley, she was still enamoured with him and that annoyed him to no end. Ginny wasn't remotely worthy of him. She was powerful sure but compared to others Ginny was nothing more than a bug. A gawking, fawning _bug_. 

* * *

  
Glittering, loud, adrenaline fuelled; that's how Harry would describe the world cup. Camera flashes blinked at every angle and the crowds were still cheering even though the game ended hours ago. Cheers that sounded suspiciously like screams. 

* * *

  
Harry bolted upwards and reached madly for his wand and knife. Flying out the tent Harry made for the woods ignoring all of the shouts from the Weasleys to stay together. On his way, he dodged through charred tent poles and around flocks of terrified revellers. A group of masked men were to his left, the family of muggles who owned the site were strung up between some of them and others were firing curses at the crowds. Harry ran to the woods, purposefully knocking into one of the torturers. They locked eyes for a _second_ but that second was long enough for the man to notice his scar. Harry fled, man hot on his heels.  
Leaping over roots and branches, Harry evaded his chaser. His breath was loud in his ears. Heart thumping rhythmically. Swivelling on one-foot Harry grabbed his unsuspecting follower and shoved his knife into his gut with a slick crunch.  
“Oops.” Harry chuckled sardonically, kneeling down...  
Harry slashed and tore at the man. Methodically ruining his body. Blood was spreading around him in a muddy pool. Harry could barely see, and his only guides were the rasping breaths of the man beneath him. Harry's eyes were wide, chest heaving, laughter bubbling from his throat. Harry tilted his head and gently pressed his knife to the edge of the man's bloodshot eye and pressed and with a horrific pop the eye shot out of its socket. The man gave a gurgling shriek of pain.  
To Harry's left was a cry. Cocking his head Harry gazed dead into the face of a terrified Draco Malfoy. 

* * *

  
“Pot-Potter?”  
“Hello Little Malfoy.” calmly greeted Harry.  
Malfoy was ashen “What are you-”  
“Expelliarmus!” Draco's wand flew out of his sweaty grip and into Harry's open palm. Harry span and disregarded Draco's furiously, shocked cry and slashed his wand down at the man's throat _“Diffindo!_ ” The man’s throat spattered out streams of thick blood and his body spasmed minutely under the impact of the spell.  
Malfoy was alarmed “Potter!?”  
Harry leered “Look what you've done, Little Malfoy...look at the mess.”  
“But you...you cast-”  
Harry laughed sharply “Maybe I held the wand Malfoy, but it's _your_ wand, I can't control it,” Malfoy grew paler “If you hadn't wanted to kill him then the spell wouldn't have worked.”  
Malfoy’s eyes were wide, and he was gasping, an ethereal ghost borne of terror in the dark forest. “But-”  
“No buts Little Malfoy, you did this”  
“No...no you, why did you?”  
Harry smiled “it's not what I did Little Malfoy, I haven't done anything,” Harry stood and approached Malfoy slowly, the screams from the riot were a distant buzz in this moment. “it's what _you've_ done that matters.”  
Malfoy was grasping at straws.  
“You can't tell anyone Little Malfoy because it was _your_ wand, _your_ will. And we both know I could never have done this, don't you see? I'm not the monster Little Malfoy...that's _you_.”  
Harry was in Malfoy's face now, his bloody face looming over the pureblood’s. Malfoy was transfixed, his eyes boring into nothing, mind gone to who knows where.  
“They'll think it's me,” Malfoy murmured. Harry nodded “They'll throw me into Azkaban.” Malfoy whispered.  
_“Yes…_ ” Harry hissed “And just imagine what your father will think, destroying the family name like that. After everything he's done.”  
Malfoy was silent, he couldn't imagine how his father would react to him senselessly causing the death of an innocent man, after all his father did to restore the family name after the first war and Draco goes and destroys it all in one night. Potter was right, no-one would believe the word of a Malfoy - a dark, evil family no matter what the court said - over the golden boy-who-lived, and it was Draco's wand that killed him, it was his _fault_ , if he hadn't wanted that man dead then the curse would never have worked, and this would never have happened. Malfoy nodded once more “I'll stay quiet, I won't tell anyone, my wand, my fault.”  
Grinning Harry sighed “That's very wise, Little Malfoy.” 

* * *

  
Harry rejoined the Weasleys, after a scolding for getting separated from the them, plans were made to go back to the Burrow. Hermione and Ron looked shaken as it turned out they had been caught in the middle of the action.  
“Oh, it was horrible Harry,” Hermione whimpered “the way they treated Ron when his wand was found near the dark mark, it was horrible! How could they even think he cast it?” Harry shook his head disbelievingly. The ministry was completely pathetic in his opinion, full of money grabbing weaklings who knew nothing of true power.  
Harry zoned out of Hermione's ramblings about some house elf, only inputting a 'hm’ or 'it’s okay’ when he felt it was appropriate.  
Ginny was being consoled by the twins, she was pale and looked like she was reliving her worst fears. Which she probably was if you think about it. What with the mark of the very man who had possessed her just over a year ago appearing directly above their heads. 

* * *

  
Ron was gripping a copy of the Daily Prophet on the train ride to Hogwarts. The cover had the dark mark emblazoned across the cover and was speculating about the possibility of there being more death eaters than originally suspected evading conviction. The rest of the carriage was solemn. In silence aside from the rhythmic chugging of the Hogwarts Express. Even Harry wasn't thinking about something macabre for once. The front page also had a large photograph of an insane looking man who had reportedly escaped from the 'inescapable’ prison of Azkaban. Sirius Black, noble Gryffindor turned muggle murdering Death Eater.  
_'How did he escape,’_ Harry pondered _'no silly question, he was the Dark Lord's right-hand man he must have the power to escape...but it's been so long since he fell. Why now?’_ Harry just couldn't figure it out and it seemed neither could anyone else. 

* * *

  
The Triwizard Tournament, Dumbledore had said, brought back after centuries of disuse was coming to Hogwarts. The hush that had fallen over the hall became an uproar. To enter one had to be seventeen or older - a safety precaution - but no one looked happy with that excuse. Fred and George were yelling obscenities at the staff and it took several loud explosions from the end of Dumbledore’s wand to shut them up.  
It was going to be a busy year. A tournament (Harry knew his luck wouldn't so far as to not include him in that competition of who can arrive at death's door the fastest), dementors around the school (why they were still holding the tournament with a mass murderer on the loose was anyone's guess), and Alastor Moody, auror extraordinaire and Hogwarts new defence teacher. There was something not quite right about him. Harry wasn't the only one who thought so. Moody's strange tic where his tongue would flicker out of his mouth every few moments put everyone on edge. His mismatched eyes on his mismatched, grotesque face that followed everyone round the room and had fastened onto Harry for an uncomfortably long time. Plus, some people thought drinking out of his own hip flask and _only_ his hip flask was a bit creepy, but you know, each to their own Harry supposed.  
Screw Ron and his 'he was a great auror even if he is a bit cracked’ there was something wrong with that gnarled professor and Harry would be damned if he let that man disrupt his time at Hogwarts. 

* * *

  
As the houses were taking the long exhausting walk out of the hall to their dorms Harry briefly made eye contact with Malfoy. Malfoy had gulped visibly but stuck his nose up in the air with his signature sneer and stomped - sorry- _stalked_ out of view. 

* * *

  
Hermione was chattering to them about the tournament whilst they clambered the staircases.  
“It was banned for good reason you know - everyone kept _dying._ ” She looked disgusted.  
“Yeah but 'Mione,” whined Ron “it's the modern day! I bet it's gonna be way safer now. Just imagine it...eternal glory,” Ron looked blissed out on the thought. Ron turned to Harry, ignoring Hermione's indignant expression and crackling hair. “What do you say, mate? Fancy a go at it?”  
“I don't know Ron,” Harry murmured “Hermione might be right, people kept dying and you know me. I think I've had enough adventures for a lifetime...”  
“You should listen to Harry, Ron.” Hermione sagely chipped in.  
“Puh-lease, Harry’s barely done anything - aside from the whole you-know-who stuff...and saving Ginny. But still!”  
Hermione growled irritably, “Oh and I bet _you_ can hold your own against the elite of two other magical schools, don’t you?”  
Ron snorted “Well, yeah, never heard of those schools though, so they can’t be very good.”  
Hermione sniffed, and Harry rolled his eyes internally “Durmstrang is renowned for their classes in duelling and their leniency towards the dark arts. Beauxbatons on the other hand are very mixed in their magic standing but are formidable as they accept only the best and most of the graduates go on to being high standing officials in Europe.” Once again Hermione regurgitated a textbook, Harry sighed.  
“Uh well...” Ron stumbled and turned pleading eyes to Harry.  
“If you’re expecting me to defend you by saying that those schools inveigle everyone of their superiority and they aren’t actually as skilled then you are mistaken Ron.” Harry said.  
Grumbling, Ron stomped off to their dorm and left Hermione staring at Harry as if she’d never seen him before.  
“What?” Harry asked.  
Snapping out of her reverie “Its just- I never thought you would speak like that to Ron.” Harry scowled slightly, fuck her if she thought he was gonna be Mr. golden boy every minute of the day, Jesus, he wasn’t even being rude.  
“G’night Hermione.” Harry ascended the stairs to the boy’s dorm to prepare, debating to himself on what the next few days will bring.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


	8. Contention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's breath staccatoed, that light was beautiful. Sheer, pure, sharp. It was like a switch had been turned on in Harry's head. Like he just knew, that that was what the Dark Lord used on him. It left a sensation thrumming through his brain, humming, buzzing love, it was a glorious taint on his soul and Harry loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the slight delay, school has started up again and well GCSE's suck so chapters are likely going to be one or two weeks apart rather than just a few days.  
> Anyway I hope you enjoy the chapter and feel free to comment theories and thoughts at the end. If anyone wants to beta this then you can message me on tumblr :)
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling

All the fourth years were desperate for Thursday to come around. Incapable of controlling themselves, half of the conversations were about Moody and his lessons. According to the students who’d had him already were 'one of a kind’ and 'not to be missed’. The other students nattered non-stop about when Moody would kill Snape, it was obvious they didn’t hold any love for the other    
When the lesson finally came around, Harry was the only one who didn't really give a shit. Harry didn't like the look of Moody. Only trusting him as far as he could throw him and with arms like his - that wasn't very far.    
When the students piled into the classroom, they didn't really know what they were getting themselves into. Desks ordered in neat rows of two to a table, all situated with clear view of a large blackboard that hadn't been there the past year.    
Moody limped in, electric blue eye swivelling from student to student. When he reached the front, he flicked his wand and his name scribbled itself across the board in rough chalk.    
Bluntly he started “Can anyone tell me what the unforgivable curses are?” The class went quiet. Hermione glanced around and tentatively raised a hand.    
“The unforgivable curses are three curses that if used, can earn you life imprisonment in Azkaban without parole. They were decided by their heinous nature and catastrophic impacts on the human body. However, there's a lot of debate on whether or not there should be other curses added to the list…” Hermione trailed off.    
Moody nodded gruffly “Correct, miss?”   
“Granger, sir”    
“Five points to Gryffindor miss Granger. Although,” Moody stared at her tie “are you sure it's not meant to be Ravenclaw?”   
Hermione gave a weak smile “No sir, Gryffindor.”   
Grunting, Moody clanked over to his desk and retrieved three glass jars from a draw “Can anyone tell me, one of the unforgivable curses?” He dumped the jars on his desk.    
“Sir,” a nameless Slytherin started “Are you sure you’re allowed to teach us-” Moody glared at her.    
“In this day and age, you need to be prepared. And screw the ministry I say! Dumbledore agrees with me. Learning how to defend yourself is paramount. Constant vigilance!” Moody glowered at the class, his chest puffed out. “Now, can anyone tell me, one of the unforgivable curses?” He repeated. Ron shuffled and looked down.   
Moody scrutinized him, “you boy, name one.”   
Ron stuttered “I think I heard one...from my dad. The...imperius curse?” Ron queried.   
Moody’s face twisted into a smile. Opening a jar, a grotesque spider crawled out onto his hand.    
Smirking, Moody twirled his wand “Imperio.” 

* * *

  
Ron clearly didn't appreciate spiders tap dancing in his hair, judging by his slightly green face. Harry however, was on the edge of his seat. He stared in awe as Moody held another spider under the 'cruciatus’; a spell which Moody had prized from Neville's unwilling lips. Hermione was shrieking at Moody to stop but Harry wasn't listening. All he cared about was how the spider tensed and spasmed. If spiders could scream then this one's voice would be raw. 

* * *

  
Moody faced Hermione, looming over her. “what's the final curse?” Hermione shook her head. “Come on, what is it?” Tears rolled down her cheeks. He lifted his head “Very well,” he directed his wand at the final spider “Avada Kedavra.” A bolt of green and then nothing, the spider was no more, a candle snuffed out by the wind.   
Harry's breath jolted, that light was beautiful. Sheer, pure, sharp. It was like a switch had been turned on in Harry's head. Like he just knew, that that was what the Dark Lord used on him. It left a sensation thrumming through his brain, humming, buzzing love, it was a glorious taint on his soul and Harry loved it.    
Harry's focus snapped back. Moody was stood directly in front of him. The whole class was staring at him. Harry guessed that there was a very good chance that Moody had just revealed exactly what Harry had just realised.

* * *

  
In no time at all, Harry and the rest of the school were patiently awaiting the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang outside the doors of Hogwarts. An excited squeal from a first year saw them staring at the sky. 'Wow what a great view’ thought Harry sarcastically when he looked at the thick clouds. Suddenly, a large carriage flowed into view and clattered down in front of the professors. Girls and boys dressed in floaty blue satin daintily skipped forwards and lined up in front of the Hogwarts students in delicate rows. Harry was gobsmacked. Fucking Cinderellas? French Cinderella and their fairy godmother headmistress. Although on second thoughts, probably more of a giant than fairy. That’s who they were up against? Jesus...   
Durmstrang came by ship and if that wasn’t falling into stereotypes then what was? The thing looked like a Pirate ship for Merlin’s sake! Hulking, great figures decked in fur stalked over the grass. The boys stomped their staffs and the girls haughtily marched.    
Ron was hyperventilating much to Harry's chagrin. Something about Viktor Krum or something, Harry wasn't listening. He was more focused on the daggers that Snape and Igor Karkaroff were sending each other and the tension lining Dumbledore’s shoulders. 

* * *

  
Crammed into the great hall, Hogwarts was buzzing with activity, people fucking up their rudimentary language skills whilst trying to talk to their guests and others gossiping about what was to come. When Dumbledore stood, the hall fell silent and everyone’s eyes turned to Dumbledore and the mysterious veiled casket.   
“Welcome,” Dumbledore smiled “Welcome one and all. I extend warm greetings to our friends of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang and wish you the very best this coming year, I hope you find Hogwarts as much a home as you would your own schools,” He paused “I also welcome their head teachers; Igor Karkaroff of Durmstrang and Madame Olympe Maxime of Beauxbatons along with Britain's very own Bartemius Crouch, Ludo Bagman and reporter Rita Skeeter to tonight's events,” A slight applause echoed down the hall “Now, I leave you with Bartemius Crouch, organiser of the tournament, to explain it to you.” Still smiling with twinkling eyes, Dumbledore sat, and an exhausted looking Crouch stood and cleared his throat.   
“Thank you headmaster for those kind words... Now, the Triwizard Tournament will consist of three tasks spanning this year, the first will happen in a few weeks time at the end of the coming month. The second and third trials will occur after Christmas. The first trial will be a task of bravery and courage in the face of danger but as per tradition, no one will know of the exact details until the day.” Crouch’s voice was monotone and boring, it hinted at a past of speeches and rallying in his choice of language, but it appeared as if all life had been sucked out of him. Harry had read of his fall from grace, so he wasn’t surprised he sounded so dull.   
“Three champions will be selected, one from each competing school. They must be over the age of 17 and will be chosen by an impartial judge...The Goblet of Fire.” With that, the veil fell and a frankly old as hell goblet was revealed. It was roughly hewn, from what Harry couldn’t tell at this distance, probably wood or stone. Nonetheless what made it interesting were the cerulean blue flames that had ignited themselves, flickering on top. The flames glittered like stars and were as blue as a stormy Mediterranean Sea. Barty stole back the attention of the crowd “Students have twenty-four hours to enter themselves into the competition, measures have been taken to prevent any under-age student from entering - I wish you good luck.”   
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


	9. Unwelcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mr Potter!” Cried McGonagall as Harry shoved the tip of his wand under Snape's chin.   
> “Fuck off you stupid-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

Harry puffed out a breath and stared at the ceiling above him. The clouds swirled along the dark sky, an orange glow obscuring the stars originated from the candles that floated above his head. Humming conversation filtered through Harry's ears. Ron and Hermione were debating on champions, Ron's face was red, he was obstinate that a Gryffindor would be champion whereas Hermione thought a Ravenclaw might be more likely (or even a Slytherin she had muttered half-heartedly; ambition and all that). 

Fred and George seemed to be trying to uphold their joker-ish nature despite their failure at entering themselves. Madam Pomfrey had refused to get rid of their beards for an hour as punishment for their attempt.  

Dumbledore stood, and conversations stalled. He approached the cup, “Welcome, welcome” he smiled “I won't bore you with a speech as I can see you are all desperate to know who shall be champion - and so.” Dumbledore waved an old hand over the burning goblet. A column of burning fire blew upwards but Harry felt as if the hall had gone cold. A small slip of charred parchment span in the air.

“And the Durmstrang champion is; Viktor Krum!” 

Students started hollering as a burly, duck footed boy stood from the sea of burgundy over by the Slytherins. Krum marched up the steps and took his name slip from Dumbledore with a stilted nod. Dumbledore grinned at the crowd as Krum made his way into the separate chamber to await further details. 

The goblet flamed upwards again.

“Beauxbatons, put your hands together for your champion; Fleur Delacour.” A pretty blonde girl rose, she was smiling and accepting hugs from her fellow students. One girl had burst into tears a few seats away from her and a group of boys were looking torn between cheering and being angry that she was selected over them. 

Ron was on the edge of his seat, “Oh calm down Ronald,” Hermione hissed, grabbing him “It's just a game, you can't even be champion anyway. Honestly.” She huffed. Ron shoved her hand off his shoulder and winked at Harry. Harry gazed calmly forward when the rest of Hogwarts started clapping for Cedric Diggory. Well most of Hogwarts, the Slytherin's looked mutinous and some of the Gryffindor appeared a bit miffed. 

Just as the cheering died down and Dumbledore went to speak again, the goblet rumbled. 

A slip of paper shot out. 

“ _ Harry Potter _ .”

_ Urgh.  _

* * *

 

Harry stumbled to the front of the hall. He was seething internally, fingers twitching towards his wand. He glared fiercely at the piece of paper he was handed. 

“What is it?” Diggory questioned as Harry stalked into view “Do they want us back through?” 

“ _ No _ .” Harry snarled. The trio of champions stared at him, slightly alarmed. Creaking and grinding; the doors slammed open and the teachers plowed in. 

“Harry,” Dumbledore said urgently “Did you put your name in the goblet of fire?” His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp. Dumbledore clearly knew something was wrong. 

“Of course he didn't,” scoffed Snape “He probably asked one of the upper years to put it in for him, the spoilt brat.  _ Just like his father _ ” Karkaroff nodded.  

“Mr Potter!” Cried McGonagall as Harry shoved the tip of his wand under Snape's chin. 

“Fuck off you stupid-” Harry was dragged away from Snape who now resembled an angry panther. “I have had a stressful evening so don't you dare suggest I was  _ stupid  _ enough to enter myself into this god awful circus.” Diggory placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and led him away. Delacour sniffed but Krum didn't look as if he was at all affected by the chaos. 

* * *

It was long after the feast when Harry finally made it back to the common room, he’d been issued a week of detentions for his actions and later snark when they were given instructions by the complete waste of space that was Ludo Bagman. Right now, Harry wanted nothing else but to sleep. For a very, very long time.

* * *

“You _ bastard! _ ” Ron growled when he saw Harry come through the portrait hole. “You promised you didn’t enter.” The rest of the house turned to watch   
Harry gaped “I didn’t enter though” He exclaimed however he was ignored.   
“Not only did you enter yourself but you also didn’t even tell me how you did it, I’m your best mate.” Ron’s face was turning red, clashing with his hair. Low mutters were emanating from other Gryffindors. Harry glowered.   
“Shut up, you ignorant prat. I never entered myself into this contest. How many times will I have to say this before everybody listens?” Harry glared furiously at Ron. “You know what I’ve had enough, I’m tired and sick of  _ you _ people.” With that, Harry exited the portrait hole with a slam - earning himself a displeased scolding from the Fat Lady. 

* * *

Harry prowled through the dungeons and low and behold there was something he could de-stress with, right there. What a coincidence. 

Draco Malfoy.

He grinned sharply “Hello, little Malfoy” Malfoy turned and paled.   
“Potter? What are you doing down here?” Malfoy’s eyes skittered around the corridor, backing away slowly.   
Harry _ lunged _ . “Now, I’ve had a rough night. So.  _ You _ are going to take me to the Slytherin Common room and  _ I  _ am going to sleep in your dorm away from any  _ pests.  _ And if you don’t let me then I might kill someone, and it’ll probably be  _ you _ .” Malfoy whimpered in Harry’s grip.

“Why, why do you want to go there?” Malfoy nervously asked.   
Harry raised a brow “Why not? I don’t need a reason Little Malfoy.” he motioned for Malfoy to move.

Shaking his head in feverent understanding Malfoy scarpered away down the corridor   
Following Malfoy at a lazy pace, Harry smirked. His smirk widened whilst he watched Malfoy mutter a quiet password at a gloomy stone wall, that’s only defining feature was an engravement of a snake on its torch bracket. The stones parted and Harry, decorated with a victorious smirk, wandered in.    
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen!” He proclaimed to the sparse common room. Slytherin house paused in shock then shouted furiously and surged upward. Harry just smiled.   
One of the prefects marched forward.   
“Half-blood scum,” He snarled “How did you get in here? Leave.” Evidently Malfoy had snuck off somewhere then,  _ ‘hm traitor’ _ .

Barking out laughter, Harry tilted is head a stepped forward “Pretty please, let me stay in your dorm, please?” He giggled childishly.   
“Are you mental, Potter?” The prefect shrieked “Get. Out.”   
Harry smiled “No.”

Something about the bright wildness of Harry’s eyes and the feral edge to his grin. Or maybe it was just the way Harry’s wand was settled in his palm. Although, Harry  _ supposed  _ it could be because all the ornaments in the room suddenly started hovering threateningly. 

“Fine,” The prefect huffed gruffly “You can stay. But not a word to anyone. Am I clear?” The last part was directed to the rest of house and a few nods and murmurs later Harry was happily exploring the fourth year dorms and making himself at home in a nest of blankets and pillows, that shone green in the light of the lake.   


* * *

 

The next day was hell. First, he had to sneak out the Slytherin dorms as Snape was hanging around. Next, he had to deal with Hermione’s rants on wandering off  _ again _ . Then he had to put up with a very pissed off Hogwarts and unhappy Hufflepuffs. Unhappy hufflepuffs, Harry discovered could be  _ lethal  _ when irritated. And finally, those goddamn twinkling eyes of Professor Dumbledore.   
Oh and Sirius Black had been sighted nearby.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


	10. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragons?  
> ‘Aw fuck’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...sorry? As I said a lil while ago I am in my GCSE year so if there are any Brits out there you'll know its bloody busy and painful, also I stupidly signed up as a stage hand for a musical so that stole my last 2 weekends of writing time. However I have you a chapter finally. I was gonna write more but I feel the ending here is a good lil cliff-hanger. It is pitifully short but you should have another chapter out in the next 2 weeks at the latest.
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with the franchise or JK Rowling, however much I dream

Harry was loitering outside Herbology just a few days before the first task when he spied Krum skirting the edge of the forest. Lazily, he eyed his class for any onlookers and then moved to follow his fellow champion into the trees.

For the past few weeks Harry had been avoiding any and all human contact in favour of memorising spells, that could possibly help him in the tournament. Aside from one moment when Ron had tried to blow up at him again, Harry hadn’t spoken to either of his ‘friends’.

‘ _Fucking finally’_ he had grumbled ‘ _took them long enough to piss off’._

* * *

Swiftly and and with a air of experience which was strange for a student who’d never been in the Forbidden Forest before (Krum must already know his destination), Harry was led further and further into the trees.It was dark and thick with bracken, sticks and low hanging branches. Any wrong move could alert Krum to his presence, all it would take was a snapped stick and wham, one caught Potter.

Because Harry was focused so intently on staying hidden it took him longer than he would’ve liked to admit to notice the dragons.

Dragons?

‘ _Aw fuck’._

Held in sturdy, enchanted cages that were bound to the forest floor with huge bolts of iron, the dragons roared. Like rabid vipers, each of them thrashed wildly in their confines. Every one was different; one was crusted in thick, rusty red scales and a magnificent crown of gold, another was an exquisite green that glimmered in the sunlight that filtered between the leaves and held mesmerizing reflections from toxic flames on its scales. Then there was the frosted blue, that was trimmed with grey and had large, all encompassing wings which were pinned to its sides with sturdy leather straps. And then there was the last. Harry looked at it and saw only _magnificence;_ it was bronze and thorny, huge and ferocious, a barbed tail smacked the bars of its cage and for a _second_ Harry was convinced it had broken free.

As Harry’s awe dulled he noticed the hissing. Strangely, it only came from the bronze and red dragons. They were angry. Some of the language was garbled, it was odd, like a toddler just learning to speak. Well...a violent toddler. It was if they spoke in a variation of the language Harry knew. Not quite snake but not quite dragon either.

Bad language or not they were behemoths. Formidable creatures born of flame and destruction. Harry would _bow_ to them.

Oh he would be screwed if he were to fight them but my god would it not be an amazing way to die. Burning up surrounded by all that magical _fire._

* * *

 

The day before the task he was summoned from in amongst a heap of books on dragons by a stuttering first year who told him Moody had requested to see him. Walking into the ex-aurors office was nothing special, there were some funny objects around the room that seemed to be related to the dark arts - ahem - _defending_ against the dark arts.

“Potter,” Moody growled upon sighting him “sit.”

Harry sat and shifted himself on the hard, wooden stool, eyeing his ‘professor’.

“Somethin’ the matter Potter?” asked Moody.  
“Its nothing Professor Moody,” Harry smiled sweetly “if that’s your _real name_.”

Moody’s eye _twitched_.

Moody leaned back, surveying Harry critically, “what is it that you think you know?”

Harry smiled impishly “Nothing much,” he shrugged “just that you-” Harry paused and gazed up at Moody through his lashes “just that you _reek_ of Him.”

“ _Him_?”

“Yes,” breathed Harry, “I would know that smell - no - _taste_ anywhere. I may have only encountered him twice but _Merlin_ do I know its Him. He calls to me. In my brain. My body. My _heart_.”

Moody was silent, wide eyed and looking a little...out of character. “Who are you talking about?” He demanded.

Harry relaxed blissfully “The Dark Lord” He gasped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


	11. Unfolding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Barty,” A sibilant voice hissed out “I did not call you.”   
> Barty cringed “I know My Lord, but, I have news. It’s about Potter…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If theres any mistakes its because I was writing this whilst passionately singing along to HYYH so might've not noticed

“The Dark Lord.”

Moody was staring at Harry. “You’re delusional. I fight dark wizards; of course I 'smell’ of the bastards.”

“No,” Harry denied “its  _ Him.  _ I know it is. And you’re coated in too much dark magic to be Moody,” Harry grinned triumphantly “and anyway if you really were Moody, who’s in your trunk?”

Moody let out a resigned sigh, standing, Moody clunked his way over to the dark oak trunk in the corner of the office. He popped the lid and gave Harry a heavy-lidded stare “Who’d you think?”   
-   
Harry swayed blissfully as he left Moody’s office, he skipped up staircases to Gryffindor tower. Cackling, Harry swung open the portrait hole and danced into the common room, ignoring all the stares. He was stopped abruptly in his tracks by a mass of curly hair. 

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione gushed as she  _ clung  _ to him “I’m so sorry. I keep meaning to tell you but- but I don’t want to upset Ron.” She pulled back and stared at him tearfully.   
Harry stroked down the side of her face “Don’t worry ‘Mione, he’ll come round. It’s not your fault.” He smiled and pulled her into another, more careful hug. Hermione sniffled into his shirt quietly and Harry shushed her gently. Hermione thought Harry was caring, little did she know that over her shoulder Harry stared blankly forward. His eyes still vibrant but…

Dead.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, the man masquerading as Moody sat stonily in his office. One hand rubbed up and down his left forearm thoughtfully. Suddenly, seemingly coming to a decision, he barged out of the room and purposefully swept down the halls and grounds until he reached a point beyond the gates.

Not-Moody vanished with a snap.

He re-appeared at the entrance of a worn manor house. Not-Moody rushed through unkempt gardens, pausing only for a brief second at the back entrance of the building. More carefully, Not-Moody walked through the house, footfalls puffing small clouds of dust. He uneasily glanced at portraits that hung ominously on the walls, then, shaking himself out of whatever fearful stupor he had lost himself in, he took to the stairs.

Not-Moody knocked slowly on a great, dark door. As soon as he entered he dropped to knees and crawled subserviently towards a looming winged armchair. 

What sat in the chair would make even brave men recoil in horror. It was child-sized entity. Scaly and wicked. It was all sharp edges and terror inducing fury. All the bones were visible. Arms that were too long hooked around emancipated knees, it’s face was from a nightmare, pale plains of icy skin, no nose to speak of. Bug like, wild eyes pierced into Not-Moody’s soul. They were made of magma and anger and fury spawned from hell itself.

Lord Voldemort was not dead. However, what he was could not be considered living either.

“Barty,” A sibilant voice hissed out “I did not call you.” 

Barty cringed “I know My Lord, but, I have news. It’s about Potter…” Barty chanced a glance upwards. Voldemort appeared to have gained new life in his body and was sat up straight, a smirk threatening to appear at the edge of thin lips. 

“It had better be good news, Barty.” Voldemort hissed. 

At that moment a colossal snake slithered into the room. Nagini climbed up her Master’s chair, she turned her head, watching Barty hungrily, ready to lash out and  _ bite  _ should Voldemort command. Shivering internally Barty nodded “I think it might be My Lord, you see when I called Potter to see me he told me things.”

“Things?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Barty rushed hurriedly “He told me he knew I wasn’t Moody,” Before Voldemort could cry out in anger Barty pushed onwards “But, he didn’t seem to care, he said he knew because I  _ smelt  _ of dark magic. Of you. My Lord, he was in  _ awe.  _ The Potter boy is strange, he has a darkness to him, he seemed in love with your presence on me. I think… if My Lord doesn’t mind me saying, Potter could be turned. He could join us.”

Voldemort didn’t say anything. Voldemort was stuck silent in his chair, deep in thought. Barty almost felt he could see ideas rolling around his Lord’s mind. All of a sudden, Voldemort started laughing. It rang clear and harsh in the air. Throaty and raw, Voldemort’s insane laughter sent quivers down Barty’s spine. It was endless joy, sheer destructive euphoria that went on, and on, and on…

Barty fled before it could stop.

* * *

The day of the first task was cold and crisp, the first signs of winter beginning to set in. Harry scuttled into the Great Hall, head down, to grab some breakfast and then speed back off to the library for the hour he had until the task.

“Mr Potter.” Aw fuck. Mcgonagall appeared next to him. She told Harry that she was to escort him down to the stadium and he had to come now.  _ ‘So much for hiding’  _ thought Harry bitterly. 

Harry trudged down to the stadium, completely ignoring the  _ pests  _ that were his school mates. Once in the tent Harry took it as his cue to sit in a corner and die. Metaphorically speaking of course. 

The hour passed quickly, Krum arrived looking as pessimistic as ever. Then Diggory showed up and proceeded to try and wear a hole in the ground through pacing alone. Finally Delacour made an appearance, only looking slightly more ruffled than usual.

The selection for which dragon they would face seemed a bit silly, how did the staff know that they wouldn’t get viciously bitten when picking a dragon  _ they weren’t supposed to know about  _ from a bag. Harry didn’t get bitten but the thought was there.

* * *

At the cannon blast, Harry eased his way into the arena. There. On the other side of the rocky arena was his dragon. The Hungarian Horntail.

“ **Get back human, leave!** ” An angry dragon, lovely. 

Now Harry knew he had slightly better chances of survival with this dragon but his plan still had the capability to go really well, or to blow up in his face. Taking a deep breath Harry adjusted his grip on his wand just in case. The public reaction to this was going to be  _ gorgeous. _

Ignoring the tense and whispering crowd Harry bent himself into a bow “ **I mean you no harm** ” he hissed. The stadium fell silent. If Harry had looked up at that moment he would’ve seen a shocked Dumbledore and a very, very scared Karkaroff. “ **You have an imposter in your clutch, my lady.** ” Harry continued. The Horntail flinched backwards furiously.

“ **Lie!** ” It snarled.

Feeling more confident Harry stalked forward “ **No,** ” he grinned, “ **Look at them and tell me they are all yours** ”. 

The dragon twitched and raised her wings threateningly but examined at her eggs nonetheless. It was in that moment that Harry lunged forward swinging his wand violently downwards, a green curve of light surged through the air and hit the dragon sharply on the underbelly. The Horntail reared and stumbled, tumbling down to the ground. Luckily none of the eggs were hit. Cautiously, Harry walked over to the nest and picked out the one golden egg there. Then, he leaned over the dragon and placed a gentle hand on its side. He hated to hurt something that majestic, but in the end no matter how magical the foe, Harry would always win and if that meant there were sacrifices then so be it.

* * *

Harry exited Dumbledore’s office silently, he had landed himself in second place, just behind Krum in the task. 

Afterwards, he was called before the headmaster for using Parseltongue and casting an unregistered spell. Dumbledore had been very stern but Harry was perfectly apologetic and docile, explaining that he hadn't wanted anyone to know about his skill in case it took away his advantage. He also apologised profusely for using the curse, saying he only used it because he didn’t think he was strong enough for any of the other spells used for taking down dragons. He had no idea that it was unregistered, honest!

In the end Dumbledore was appeased and Harry could go back to his dorm with a newfound respect (fear) from his peers.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


	12. Loch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what felt like years Harry discovered the location of his ‘most precious possession’. He swam contently through the Merman village, leering at every Grindylow he saw. A form of town square was a little way ahead, surrounded by a ring of armed ugly as fuck Mermen.  
> Harry spotted his item.  
> Oh Jesus Fuck, why did it have to be Ron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so...hi. I'm alive.  
> This fic isn't abandoned I'm just useless. I will try not do this is again but I have exams for the next two weeks so it might Christmas before theres any more.
> 
> Naturally, I don't own anything by JK Rowling I'm just borrowing it.

After the mayhem of the first task the rest of term was relatively quiet. Harry quickly abandoned the egg at the bottom of his trunk deeming it as ‘unimportant’. Instead of trying to figure out the clue, he spent his days perusing the shelves in the library, stalking Not-Moody, cursing first years, and annoying Little Malfoy. 

Currently, Harry was in the restricted section (having been given free reign for the duration of the tournament). He was sat a top of the shelves reading a  _ very _ interesting book on slow-acting jinxes. Did you know that there was a spell that would slowly burn your insides out? Harry didn’t either, until now. 

A nearby shriek caught Harry’s attention. Glancing up he made eye contact with a simply furious Madam Pince…

And that’s the story of the time Harry was seen being chased down a corridor by a dozen angry, conjured wasps.

* * *

The Christmas holidays were all but a week away and Harry’s relatively calm mood was annihilated by the announcement of a Yule Ball.

If there was any time Harry wanted to jump off the astronomy tower, it was now.

Unsurprisingly though, Harry decided not to attend and simply camped the night out in the Slytherin common room. It wasn’t like anyone would look for him there anyway.

* * *

The rest of the holidays were fine. Sleep, followed by sleep, followed by more sleep, followed by food and then sleep.

Peaceful.

Alas, it did not last and by the time January rolled around Harry considered it the right time to look into that damn egg. 

* * *

So here he was, sat on the edge of the Black Lake with a glass of bluebell flames flickering merrily away next to him, trying to motivate himself into opening the fucking screaming beast.

It wasn’t the first time Harry opened the egg, on the eve of the first task was when he opened it, to this day he will swear to anyone who asked that he went completely deaf for the following 3 days from the sheer pitch of it.

Scrunching his face up, Harry gently clicked the clasp. The egg fell apart and the screaming began. It was a great wail that rose high into the heavens, reverberating throughout the whole grounds. Multiple students that were loitering about jerked at the noise and glanced frantically about to find its source.

With a inaudible sigh of frustration Harry stood and lobbed the open egg at the water. He watched it sail through the air - still screaming - and plop into the Lake. The noise cut off. Harry breathed out.

Harry didn’t know why he threw it, sometimes Harry found he just couldn’t not act on a impulse. He just had to do or say what he thought. Grumbling to himself Harry waded into the icy water. A golden glimmer below the surface a few metres in was all Harry could see of his clue, as he neared a quiet melody became apparent. Like a curious cat, Harry tilted his head, bending down he fished the egg out of the water. Breaking the surface, the egg screamed. Rapidly Harry dropped it again. The screaming stopped - the singing began. 

Now he was intrigued.

Harry couldn’t fully make out the lyrics but he got the basic gist of it. Something was going to be taken and he’d have to get it back. Simple really. But...Harry figured the water would have something to do with it. You don’t just spell a song to be only discernible underwater for no reason. Looks like Harry was sneaking off to the library again.

* * *

Harry stood awkwardly at the side of the Black Lake, next to him the three (actually qualified) champions were checking themselves over before the task was to begin. Diggory was fiddling with his wand. Delacour, looking like she was gonna throw up, and Krum, who was...staring? Harry didn’t know, Krum was quite, well, dull…

Sighing, Harry flicked his eyes over the crowd, briefly he made eye contact with Not-Moody. Harry winked. Not-Moody scowled. Cackling internally, Harry tuned into what Dumbledore was saying.

Suddenly, they were off. Diggory and Delacour splashed clumsily forward. Krum was twirling his wand through some sharp movements over his face, lunging forward Harry tumbled into the water.

Gasping the charm, a warm wave of air splashed over his face as a transparent bubble cocooned his lower face. Propelling himself forward Harry set himself in for a long swim.

* * *

Some time later Harry was navigating his way through some sort of weed. He really had no idea where he was going, but oh well.

Rapidly, unexpected and inconveniently; a Grindylow latched itself to Harry leg. Snarling, Harry whipped about, swinging his arms and legs violently, slimy tendrils of green slid over his eyes. A burning pain was shooting through his calf. Finally, Harry grabbed hold of the small blade he had tucked into his belt and swished it madly through the water.

A water-logged scream marked the death of the creature, feeling slightly winded, Harry took a moment to examine his leg. It was bleeding profusely and  _ oh merlin  _ it burned. A kaleidoscope of coppery blood swirled through murky water, wrapping its way round the currents and weeds.

Harry reached for his wand and waved it hopefully in the direction of the claw marks. It took a minute but the cuts sealed up into rusty scabs. His leg still ached though. Grimacing, Harry warily peered through the weeds, sensing no danger he moved on.

* * *

After what felt like years Harry  discovered the location of his ‘most precious possession’. He swam contently through the Merman village, leering at every Grindylow he saw. A form of town square was a little way ahead, surrounded by a ring of armed ugly as fuck Mermen.

Harry spotted his item.

Oh Jesus Fuck, why did it have to be  _ Ron. _

If it was possible to groan underwater that was what he’d be doing.

* * *

Thankfully time went fast after that small kerfuffle. Using his knife, he cut through the bindings round the ginger fairly easily. Harry avoided going near the other three people; Cho Chang, a tiny blonde and Hermione - because when he strayed slightly too close to Chang he was gifted with a spear to the throat. Halfway through freeing Ron, a transfigured Krum showed up and tore Hermione free before speeding off. Afterwards, Harry just had to let Ron float up towards the surface, he followed soon after - only pausing for a moment to salute cockily towards the Mermen.

Harry was second, Krum won by a margin of about fifteen minutes. Diggory was third, surfacing with Chang not long outside of the hour time limit. Delacour had actually returned first but it had been without the tiny blonde, who was apparently her sister. Cue the long wait for the Mermen to return her.

There was some tears at that reunion.

* * *

That evening Harry was lounging in his dorm. Ron was unfortunately speaking to him once more, and Hermione had returned to her nagging, homework obsessed chatter.

He lay back on his bed and shut his eyes, his hand clutching the covers while the other curled around his blade.

* * *

In another part of the country a Dark Lord grinned malevolently at Barty Crouch and rasped joyously; “The Potter boy will join us my dear Barty, he will join us because well,” He leant back to stroke Nagini “he is precious, more precious than he knows.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr: theboywizard


	13. Authors Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic!

 

Hi guys,

So, it's been awhile... I deeply apologise for not updating this fic. I have not abandoned this and have not considered it either. For anyone who knows of the british education system they will know the hell that is GCSE year. I am currently just over one month away from my GCSE exams and have spent the past few months embroiled in stress and school work and studying. Unfortunately this meant putting aside fanfiction for the time being in order to focus on school. I will definitely begin writing once more as soon as exams are over and as I will have a longer holiday than usual there will be plenty of time for me to make up for lost time.

I am sorry for taking so long to make you aware of whats going on but I thought you deserved to know. If i have a spare moment between the next update and now I will try planning the next arc after Order of the Phoenix (which is coming up soon :D), and I will also be going back and editing grammer/ spelling mistakes in previous chapters to clean it up nicely for you guys. 

Once again I am sorry but come the end of June everything should be back to normal. 

\- ElijahC

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: theboywizard.tumblr.com


End file.
